Weathered Stone
by Thalius
Summary: Fred reflects on the cost of civilian lives with Lopis. Takes place during Halo: Retribution, and really mild on relationship stuff.


**AN:** From equivalencept's prompt on tumblr: _"Did I say that out loud?"_

Takes place in the middle of Retribution, right after Blue Team steals the Turaco from the Keepers (chap 17-18), but there aren't any real plot spoilers.

* * *

The _Silent Joe_ had very obviously not hosted Spartans before, nor was she much equipped to handle supporting them for long periods of time. The support modules and Brokrr assemblies required to maintain and use their Mjolnir had been installed haphazardly in the small storage bay housing the few extra EVA vehicles the ship had at its disposal. The casings housing their armour were tucked in the corner of the bay along with several other storage containers. Linda made her distaste known with a sharp outburst of breath from her nose.

"Won't be for long," Fred assured her, shoving away a container that had been slid in front of the casings to make room for other shipments. He'd have to have a follow-up discussion with the maintenance personnel about the dangers of blocking Spartan armour while in active combat. _Again._

"Told them not to put the Mjolnir away before we had a chance to look it over," Kelly groused, unlocking the casing and sliding an equipment desk over to them. "Can't find good help these days."

Fred didn't bother with the table, spreading his armour out on a tarp on the deck and sitting himself down in the middle. Linda did the same, carving out more breathing room with a few solid shoves of her boot against several storage boxes, a frown furrowing her brow.

Fred smiled as he crossed his legs, settling into a comfortable position. Kelly tossed him a rag and a toolkit, and they all got to work on their suits. The Keepers had fought hard to inflict as much damage as possible on them, and he wasn't keen on going into the field again before they could make some basic repairs.

Just a few minutes into inspecting his armour, a junior looking officer poked her head around a storage crate they'd shoved out of the way and looked on at the three Spartans dissembling their armour. "Uh, sir?" she said, giving a shaky salute.

"At ease, Ensign," Fred said, and she nodded, stepping closer. None of Blue Team were in uniform, having swapped out their dress blues for the Mjolnir undersuit, but he wasn't sure if that made them more or less intimidating.

"I… have been instructed to tell you that the ONI techs part of your support complement are the only ones allowed to initiate repairs on Mjolnir. Sir." The sentence ended almost in a question. Fred moved to stand up, then realised he would only make the girl—for she must have been a girl, barely twenty—more nervous.

He shook his head instead, keeping his features relaxed. Whichever one of her superiors had ordered a very green O-1 to come demand anything of three Spartans was an asshole. She was practically shaking in her boots, and he made sure to speak softly. "No can do, Ensign. We all need repairs, and the techs are busy looking over the Turaco we recovered. We've only got sixteen hours before we have to gear up, and I'm not sending Blue Team out in the field with damaged equipment if I can help it."

Her mouth opened, perhaps to protest. Fred admired her desire to stick to protocol, but he cut the side of his palm laterally in a stop motion to interrupt her. The ensign wouldn't be familiar with Spartan signals, but she was skittish enough that the motion was all that was required to make her re-think her words.

"Who ordered you to come speak with us, Ensign?"

She shifted, looking at the ground before meeting his eyes again. "LT Haber, sir."

Kelly and Linda both snorted behind him in distaste, and he suppressed a sigh. Haber was about as fond as Blue Team being housed in the hangar bay as Fred was, and Haber apparently meant to use any opportunity he could to make his feelings on that clear.

"Tell him—" Fred paused, then set his pauldron down on the tarp and stood up. "Actually, show me to Lieutenant Haber, Ensign. If he has an issue with how I conduct my team, he can tell me directly."

She nodded, looking intensely relieved that she wouldn't have to play the role of messenger again. "Of course. This way, Lieutenant—"

"Fred," came a call from across the deck, and he looked over to see Lopis approaching.

"Someone else to badger us," Kelly muttered. He waved his fingers at her but didn't look over his shoulder.

"At least Lopis usually has a good reason," he replied.

"No captain around as a captive audience, so at least she won't try to throw you under the bus again." The protective note in Kelly's low voice came through even with how softly she was speaking.

"Sorry, sir?" the Ensign said, and he realised she couldn't have possibly heard Kelly whispering behind them.

"I wasn't—"

"Fred, a word?" Lopis repeated, having made her way across the deck and stopping a few feet from them. The ensign gave another unneeded salute, and the Inspector smiled at the girl.

"Relax, I'm not an officer." She turned to Fred and raised a brow. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Everyone apparently wants my attention," Fred replied, then looked down at the Ensign. "Give us a moment."

"Aye, sir." She happily retreated back behind the storage containers, and Fred looked back over to Lopis.

"Come to tell me I'm doing something wrong, too?" he asked, amused.

"Again?" Kelly added behind them, and this time Fred shot her a warning look. She shook her head but didn't look away or back down. He appreciated the back-up, but he could more than handle Lopis. Or any goddamn uppity officers who thought they could dictate how he handled his own equipment.

Fred expected a smirk from the Inspector when he looked back at her, but instead her face softened and her eyes welled up with regret. "No. I wanted to apologise, actually."

He raised a brow. "For the debriefing?"

She nodded. "Yes. I was too harsh."

He gave her a sympathetic look. "Leaving behind civilians is never easy."

"So you've done it before."

"Lots of times." He paused, shaking his head. "Doesn't get easier, but—"

"You get better at dealing with it."

"Yeah." He jerked his head and began walking, and she fell into step beside him. The bore hole Kelly had been staring into the back of his head had eased when the word _apology_ left the Inspector's mouth, but he could tell Lopis wanted to speak more privately.

"I was the one who made the decision, really," she continued when they were further away from Blue Team. They were still within earshot—well, Spartan earshot—but the distance gave the illusion of privacy. "I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

Fred considered his next words. The Spartan program was still heavily classified, but Lopis was probably the only civilian besides Halsey that knew any of the finer details. The mournful look in her dark eyes was enough to push him to say his next words. "My first confirmed kill was at fourteen. Most of ours were."

Lopis remained quiet, but her expression shifted into one of empathy. He thought of the gammas confiding in her, and being offered that same soft expression. Not trembling fear or disgusted awe that he'd seen so many times. Fred smiled down at her sadly as he continued. "First one's always hard. Didn't sleep well for a while. Then more and more came along, and it gets easier. Eventually you lose count and it stops feeling wrong."

"I don't want to feel that way," she replied. "Not ever."

"Then you don't need to apologise to me, Inspector. Not for feeling bad about civilian casualties."

"But I do for being an ass about it." She looked back at Blue Team, who were still tending to their armour. He knew both Kelly and Linda were listening intently, but the distance had given him a false sense of privacy, too, though he wasn't sure why he'd want it. Not from them.

"Do you?" she asked, and he looked back at her.

"Do I what?"

"Feel bad—about the prisoners?"

He would have taken offense if anyone else had asked, but there was no hint of judgement in her voice. She only sounded concerned.

"I do," he replied, and her face fell in relief. "But I've been doing this a while now, and it's a lot easier for me to ignore."

She smiled at him, then nodded to the Ensign milling about behind the storage containers. "You better tend to her before she has a meltdown."

He chuckled. "I'm not sure if she's more scared of me or LT Haber."

"My bets are on Haber." Lopis turned and began heading back across the deck. "You're too sweet to be afraid of," she added, so softly he barely heard her.

"What?" He felt his ears redden as he watched her walk away. She looked over her shoulder and gave him a smile that he didn't know how to interpret.

"Did I say that out loud?"

He wondered how to answer her, but she was out of earshot before he made any headway. The Ensign cleared her throat nervously behind him, making him tear his gaze away from the retreating Inspector.

"Sir, I don't mean to—"

He turned, clearing his throat and shrugging his shoulders. "No, it's alright. Let's go."

The Ensign lead the way to the elevator silently, and he was grateful she didn't attempt any small talk. He was adept at ignoring the hard press of regret inside his chest at pointless death, as he'd told the Inspector, but he found himself having a much more difficult time shoving away the fluttering sensation in his stomach, or the pink heat collecting in his cheeks.


End file.
